


Upload

by NiteWrighter



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-20 11:02:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17021457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NiteWrighter/pseuds/NiteWrighter
Summary: Sombra encounters a particularly difficult terminal that requires more... intense methods to hack. McCree has some concerns.





	Upload

McCree stood near the door, peacemaker at the ready. He gave a wary glance over his shoulder at Sombra, who was biting her thumbnail at several screens surrounding her.

“How’s it going–?” McCree started but Sombra held up a finger and McCree fell quiet. She had that look on her face again. That ‘don’t say anything because I need every cell in my brain working on this’ look. But this whole little ‘errand’ (as she put it) didn’t exactly feel right to begin with, and it didn’t help that she didn’t have the usual smug little smirk she wore when hacking now. Between her cloaking and his Blackwatch infiltration skills, they had made it in past the guards fairly easily–staying in one place though? Staying in one place had ‘trouble’ written all over it.

“Dammit…” muttered Sombra.

“Hey… uh… not to rush ya but–”

“So don’t rush me,” said Sombra.

“Just… you said hacking this would take seconds,” said McCree.

“I thought it would take seconds,” said Sombra, she started tapping at her screens with more frustration, muttering, “Stupid–outdated—I should be able to—” A giant ‘X’ appeared on the largest of her screens and spread to the smaller screens flanking it, “ _Mierda!_ ” Sombra closed all of the purple windows with a wave of her arm.

“Nothing wrong with scrubbin’ a mission, pumpkin,” said McCree, “We can find another way—”

“No,” said Sombra, and then she pressed her knuckles against her forehead, “Think. Think,” she said to herself. She gave a glance over to the terminal, then stepped over to it and started feverishly tapping at the keyboard, “This is going to take a bit more hardware,” she said.

“Hardware?” McCree repeated.

Sombra swept her hair off the back of her neck, “Give me a hand with this, will you?” she said.

“With… what?” said McCree stepping over. Sombra undid the odd fasteners at her shoulders and pulled off her outer jacket, which, it turned out was actually sleeveless. The gradient pink and purple sleeves remained on her arms as she pulled off the jacket, revealing a zippered sleeveless gray tunic with a high neck underneath.

“Do you mind?” Sombra gestured at her back.

McCree warily stepped around her to see a zipper down the back of the tunic. “…your clothes have a stupid amount of zippers,” he said, taking hold and unzipping the back, revealing Sombra’s spinal implants.

“Noted,” said Sombra, “Okay, you see my implants?”

“Yeah,” said McCree.

“Okay midway down the thoracic vertebrae you’ll see two plates on the side of my implants. You need to pinch them.”

“Thoracic?” McCree repeated a little helplessly.

Sombra sighed and grabbed his wrist and guided his hand toward the bottom of her spinal implants. “Do you see the plates?”

“…these plates?” said McCree, pressing down with is thumb and forefinger. 

Sombra flinched a bit, her shoulders jerking at his touch. “Yes. Those. Push them in until you hear a click.”

McCree complied. Sombra drew a sharp breath as he pressed down. Then there was a click and the bottom point of Sombra’s spinal implants suddenly clicked open, McCree flinched back hard at the click, fearing he’d broken something.

“Good,” Sombra said, her hand trailing up to the bottom of her spinal implants. She felt around and McCree noticed the gleam of something silver within the now-open compartment within the implants.

“…the hell…?” McCree said quietly but then Sombra took hold of it with her fingers and pulled it out. A wire. It was a port.“…the  _hell?_ ” McCree said again. 

“I told you,” said Sombra, “Hardware.”

“…you’re going to… to…plug yourself into that terminal,” said McCree.

“Yep,” said Sombra.

“And…that’s not creepy or fucked up at all to you,” said McCree.

“Nope,” said Sombra. She looked thoughtful. “Keep an eye on my body, will you?” she said.

“Your body?” said McCree, “As in… you’re.. you’re not going to be… _in_  your body?”

“…not exactly. I mean, I’ll still breathe and all of my major organs will be functioning, but it’s like.. it’s like sleeping. My consciousness on the other hand…” she tapped the screen of the terminal with her fingers.

McCree processed what she was saying for a moment, “Okay can I go on record as saying I really,  _really_  don’t like this idea?”

“Aw,  _Vaquero_ …” she patted the side of his face, “I’ve done it before. It’ll be fine.”

McCree did not look convinced. Sombra assumed a cross-legged position and pulled more of the wire out of her back. It was more than a little unnerving how long it was. She plugged it into a port on the side of the terminal and a window featuring her purple sugar skull icon appeared on the screen. Sombra settled in a little bit where she was seated. “All right,” said Sombra, “Can you hit the ‘enter’ key on that keyboard?”

“…Uh…” McCree looked at the keyboard, “You sure about this?”

“Tch. It’s  _fine_ , Jesse,” Sombra said with an eye roll, “Just hit it.”

McCree drew a breath then hit the ‘enter’ key.

“Be right baahhhh–” Sombra’s jaw went slack before she could finish her sentence and her eyes rolled back in her head before closing.

“Sombra?” McCree bent down toward her body. She didn’t respond. “Pumpkin?” No response. He dropped his voice a bit more, “…Olivia?”

“McCree. What was our rule?” a binary voice, not Sombra’s but clearly some old voice-based AI system for the terminal, spoke.

“…what?”

“Our rule, McCree. About the ‘O’ word,” the terminal spoke again.

“Are… are you in there?” McCree looked at the screen of the terminal.

“Our rule, McCree,” said the terminal again.

“…Not to say it?” said McCree.

“Thank you,” said the terminal.

“…is that you?”

“Yes, Vaquero,” the AI voice clearly didn’t recognize the Spanish and said ‘Vaquero’ like “Vackwer-o.”

“I….” McCree gave a glance back to Sombra’s body before looking at the screen again, “I’m not gonna lie, pumpkin, this is freakin’ me out a little.”

“Keep your pants on. I won’t be long,” said the terminal. Windows started opening and closing with and lines of code started running across the screen at dizzying speed. McCree glanced down at Sombra, eyes closed, still cross-legged on the floor, and noticed a slight twitch to her eyelids. REM sleep, but it wasn’t sleep, it was the nerves of her body responding to whatever the hell her brain was doing to the terminal. With her jaw slacked open she was drooling a little. McCree gingerly reached forward and closed her jaw with his fingertips, before wiping away the bit of drool from the corner of her mouth with his thumb. He drew in a deep breath and tried to exhale some of the anxiety this whole situation was giving him.

“Got it,” the terminal said at last and McCree huffed in relief, “Uploading the intel.”

A loading bar popped up on the screen of the terminal, rapidly filling in purple before the purple sugar skull icon flashed on the screen again.

“See?” said the terminal, “I told you. It’ll be fi–”

The screen suddenly went black. The lights overhead went black. McCree found himself sitting in pitch darkness before the backup generators for the building kicked in dim and red. “…Power surge?” McCree said, looking around. Sombra was still sitting in front of him, cross-legged, eyes closed.

“Sombra?” McCree said. He gave a glance back to the terminal, still black, “Oh no…” he glanced back at her body. There was no longer the twitch of REM on her eyelids. “Hey—” McCree reached forward and tilted her head up at him, “Come on. Quit foolin’ around. You’re in there. You got the intel. You did it. Wake up.”

Sombra didn’t respond.

“Sombra–” McCree said, putting his hands on her shoulders, “You hear me, right? Can you hear me? Come on, just say something.”

Her head only lolled forward with his hands on her shoulders, her hair falling over the side of her face.

“…Look if this is a joke…” McCree started, but then couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence, “Come on, Sombra, I know you’re in there! You got the intel! We need to get moving, let’s go!” He brought one hand up under her chin with one hand and tucked her hair back behind her ear with the other, “Please…” he said.

Her eyes stayed closed. McCree felt his heart drop into the pit of his stomach. “Sombra–come on–,” he shook her shoulders a little, “Okay, you got me. Real funny. Real funny. Got me good. Now come on, open your eyes.”

She just slumped with the shaking. Silent. McCree’s breath caught in his throat, then his mouth drew to a thin line. His jaw tightened and he swallowed hard. He gripped Sombra’s shoulders. “Sombra?” he said one more time, then he started actually shaking her. “Olivia Colomar you get that pert little ass of yours out of that terminal  _right now_ or  _so help me god_ —”

“GAH!” Sombra’s eyes snapped open with such suddenness McCree drew back and Sombra gasped sharply.

“Jesus Goddamn Christ…” McCree said, pressing a hand over his chest as his breath seemed to finally return to him, “You scared the shit out of me back there.”

“Woah…” Sombra woozily brought her fingertips up to her temples. “That was weird. What happened?”

“What happened? The screen went black is what happened! I thought you—I didn’t know if you were—” He brought a hand up to the side of her face, “You… you okay?”

“Yeah…” Sombra rubbed her forehead, “Yeah things got… dark… there, for a minute. But yeah, I think I’m—” Sombra suddenly found herself caught up in a tight embrace from McCree, “I’m good…” she said quietly, half muffled into McCree’s shoulder. Her arms found their way around his waist to return the hug. “…you were pretty scared, huh?” her voice was soft on his serape. He didn’t say anything. He just squeezed her a little tighter.


End file.
